A Jeweler Changes His Game

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Gabriel Urist and some designs from his new jewelry line.CreditDanielle Levitt

By William Van Meter

March 12, 2014

Glancing at Gabriel Urist’s kitchen counter, you might think he had a very complicated blender, possibly of Eastern European origin. In actuality it’s a magnetic tumbler. And in place of a toaster and other appliances are hulking metalsmithing and jewelry-making contraptions.

“I still cook for company,” he said, and mentioned a rotisserie chicken that was a hit the other day.

Mr. Urist, a 35-year-old jewelry designer, was in the living and work space of his cozy first-floor apartment in a Fort Greene, Brooklyn, brownstone. A door to the backyard was open and let in a breeze.

Mr. Urist’s extensive commercial creations, mostly for men, tend to be strongly masculine, with heavy sports influences. They have earned him an underground following, and with items like Wu-Tang Clan cuff links and a line for “Yo! MTV Raps,” street-style blogs have called him a “hip-hop jeweler.”

And he has cornered the market on jock jewelry. For Nike, he has made pendant necklaces, miniaturizing various cult sneakers like Air Max.

“I call it shoe-elry,” Mr. Urist said. His most ambitious shoe-elry for the company was an intricate jagged nugget lace-lock for the limited-edition Watch the Throne sneakers. Two were made: one for Jay Z; the other for Kanye West.

He made pendants with basketball player silhouettes for the sneaker store Alife, which led to a seven-year contract with the National Basketball Association, for which he also made insignia rings. That led to stints with Major League Baseball and New Era caps. But with the introduction of his first full jewelry line last month, Mr. Urist hopes to change the way he is perceived.

His new collection is based on love letters.

“It’s for when you don’t know what to say to a girl,” he said. One ring looks like abstract squiggles, but the silver is molded into cursive to read “love letter.” There is also a range of heart shapes, from intricate ones with paper-thin filigree to purposefully childlike pieces with words like “trust” etched in them.

After a breakup early last year, Mr. Urist moved back to Brooklyn after spending two years in Paris. His body has refused to accept the change of time zone, and he does most of his work late at night. Even when undertaking commercial projects, he makes his pieces by hand.

“Two-hundred-fifty isn’t that many,” he said, “but I’m never making 1,000 of anything again.”

Mr. Urist’s custom clients have included Kobe Bryant and Baron Davis. The musician and actor Saul Williams recently commissioned some intricate medallions that read “Master of Space.” The first pieces Mr. Williams acquired were rings elaborately carved from peach pits.

“What he can do with the stone of a peach!” Mr. Williams said. “A side of him is lucky to be able to live off these commercial things, and then there is the sensitive guy trying to make meaningful work.”

In mid-January, Mr. Urist was in Berlin at a Fashion Week party in his honor at Voo, a hip multibrand store in Kreuzberg. He was easy to spot. At 6-foot-4, he towered over most of the crowd and wore a tie-dyed ASAP Rocky T-shirt and a leather camouflage coat. Glass cases displayed some of his past work and a collection inspired by the German capital: a thin gold chain with “Berlin” spelled out in small dangling block letters.

Voo’s creative director, Herbert Hofmann, was a fan. “We wanted to get the ‘street’ part but also appeal to women customers,” he said. “He was so open-minded. I was amazed that this gigantic guy makes these tiny fragile things so on point.”

MR. URIST GREW UP in Ann Arbor, Mich. In high school he was on the basketball team (he still plays often). “I didn’t like going to school so much,” he said. “I hung out with the skater kids and painted.” In his senior year, he transferred to the Interlochen Center for the Arts. The metalworking room became his hangout.

“I made a necklace for my mom, ” he said. “A chai — my grandfather was a rabbi in Brooklyn, and I went to Hebrew school. It was my dream to make necklaces for rappers.”

In 1999, he moved to New York. “I came to be near the jewelry district,” he said. He worked at various jewelry stores and supply houses, accumulating a vast array of tools.

“I never went to jewelry school, but I’m not self-taught,” he said. “I hate it when people say that. Every job I had, there would be a teacher there.”

He made props for one of Matthew Barney’s “Cremaster” films. He also worked on accessories for runway shows for Miguel Adrover, Zac Posen and Marc Jacobs.

“I’d never been to a fashion show,” he said. “I got a lot of attention because I was this basketball player in this fashion scene.”

He paused before resuming: “By basketball player, I mean straight dude. I got work because I was different and wasn’t trying to front like I was a fashion connoisseur. Or maybe just because I’m good at making jewelry.” Recent fashion work has included making collar bars for Public School’s fall show. His new work is available on his site and at the Gabriela de la Vega shop in Fort Greene. But he isn’t letting go of his eccentricity. He is making pieces for the band Little Dragon, and putting the finishing touches on a chess set for a friend. Pocketknives that can be worn as necklaces have sold out at the skate store Supreme.

“I went to a knife-making seminar in New Jersey,” he said. “Some people are designers, but they don’t make anything. I can’t design something unless I know how to make it.”